


slowly, then all at once

by CGotAnAccount



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Baby's first angst, Friends to Lovers, High School AU, Katt - Freeform, M/M, Pining, Romantic Katt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 20:56:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20607182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CGotAnAccount/pseuds/CGotAnAccount
Summary: Keith has never been the type for the mushy romance novels that Romelle likes to read on the couch after school – he's never understood the appeal of swooning maidens and heaving bosoms, or the embarrassing cheesy dialogue that goes with it.But sometimes he catches sight of Hunk and Shay smiling at each other across the table and a little part of him twinges, not with envy... more like with a sort of wonder.And then of course, there's Matt.





	slowly, then all at once

Keith has never been the type for the mushy romance novels that Romelle likes to read on the couch after school – he's never understood the appeal of swooning maidens and heaving bosoms, or the embarrassing cheesy dialogue that goes with it.

Really, he's never been really interested in romance at all, at least not in the knight in shining armor swooping out of nowhere to save the day kind of garbage everyone makes it sound like. He doesn't need anyone to fight his battles or pet his face or croon shitty love songs at his window at night... and he definitely doesn't need to be _that_ couple making out against the lockers until the last warning bell rings, making it impossible for anyone else to get their shit, _Lance._

But sometimes he catches sight of Hunk and Shay smiling at each other across the table and a little part of him twinges, not with envy... more like with a sort of wonder.

And then of course, there's Matt.

“Hey man.” A familiar dirty green messenger bag crashes into the table in front of him, nearly spilling the carton of milk Keith had been savaging with a fork. “Rough morning?” Keith shrugs back, noncommittal as he flicks a glance back up to the happy couple and away. Matt follows his eyes and his nose wrinkles. “Shunk being gross again?”

That at least earns a snicker as Keith gives up on stabbing his abused milk. “No... they just look happy, don't they?” He shrugs again and pushes his tray away to root around in his bag for a notebook. “Makes you wonder.”

Matt quirks an eyebrow at him as he slurps up state supplied noodle substitute, smearing mystery sauce across his cheek. “Wonder about what?”

“You know...” Keith waves his hand in their general direction. “What that's like.”

“Being mushy in the cafeteria?” Matt's mouth twists as he raises an unimpressed eyebrow in their direction. “Probably pretty boring... I think they're talking about rock tumbling.”

“Not the mushy part,” Keith mutters, scratching along the margins of an empty page. “The whole... having someone thing.”

He doesn't mean for it to come out as wistful as it does and almost flinches as Matt frowns and scoots closer to throw an arm around his shoulders.

“Aw, buddy.” Matt squeezes tight around him and pulls him into his side. “You'll find somebody like that someday.” He tilts his head to let it knock into Keith's with a laugh. “We can find you some big buff guy, or a sugar daddy!”

Keith feels his heart give a feeble lurch and scurry down into his stomach.

“Yeah.” He forces a laugh and shrugs off Matt's arm, scooping his notebook into his bag and clambering from the bench with his milk soaked tray. “I gotta go.”

“But class isn't for another twenty minutes,” Matt calls after him, ignoring the looks from the surrounding tables. Keith doesn't turn around, just waves a hand backward and dumps his tray, leaving Matt to watch the doors swing shut behind him.

It wasn't always this weird.

Back when Keith moved to town a few years ago with his mom and sister he hadn't been expecting to make very many friends at all. To be honest, he hadn't bothered trying in the first place, planning to crawl through the rest of school and be done with it – but that hadn't lasted long when Romelle got absorbed immediately into an established friend group and Keith was required to chaperone their hangouts to make sure she didn't get murdered.

Arguably it should have been the lamest thing that could have happened to him at thirteen, if not for the equally put-out sandy haired kid straggling behind his own little sister at the skating rink who had perked right up at the sight of Keith.

“Oh thank god,” The kid had wheezed, sprawling himself beside Keith on the ugly carpeted bench. “I thought it was going to be me and four preteen girls.” He stuck his hand out and grabbed Keith's in an enthusiastic handshake. “I'm Matt.”

“Uh...” Keith had blinked down at him, utterly bewildered by his new bench-mate. “I'm Romelle's brother?”

“I know.” Matt had grunted, clapping him on the back and pointing over at a shorter version of himself. “She's Pidge's friend, they're terrors.” Then he pulled two game boys from his bag and held one out to Keith. “Wanna play?”

It had been the start of a beautiful friendship.

They'd struggled through puberty together, both growing just enough to be safe from locker-stuffing. They'd crammed together, late night sessions fueled by hot cocoa from Colleen and Krolia. They'd cried together on the anniversary of Keith's dad's death, Matt holding him tight as Keith whimpered about the cruel whims of life...

Matt had even been the first person Keith had come out to, awkward and hesitant as he prepared to lose the best friend he'd ever had. He'd muttered the confession and cringed like he was expecting a punch – instead he'd gotten a considering hum as Matt changed the topic from girls he thought were cute to guys he'd like to crush him. Since then they'd spent far too many afternoons together watching the school's golden boy and his various sports teams run around in whatever tight pants were required that season.

Really, their unexpected friendship is probably the best thing that had ever happened to Keith.

Which makes it so much worse now that he can't stop thinking about Matt in ways that aren't strictly friendly.

But what is a guy supposed to do when his best friend is hilarious, and charming, and cute, and always there when he's needed, and just _so_ fucking smart? When suddenly all those playful elbows and smiles leave him feeling like he's been punched in the stomach? When every earnest look makes Keith want to turn his skin inside out and crawl under the table so it's not written all over his face.

It's like those stupid fucking books... slowly then all at once. Except all at once feels a lot like getting punched in the face – and it's going to feel a lot more like getting punched in the face when Matt realizes it and decides that it's too weird, that he was just looking at guys to make Keith feel better, that he doesn't want to be friends with the kid who can't hold a conversation with anyone outside of his immediate family, that he's going off to some fancy college to find smart friends and Keith... well.

Keith will do what he always does. He'll survive, he'll pick up his pieces, and maybe he'll learn not to let anyone get that close if this is what happens.

So if Keith starts to pull away, just a little, who can really blame him?

Matt. Matt can blame him.

“Hey.” Matt crashes into the side of Romelle's locker without fanfare, crouching down to squint at where she's shoveling books into her bag. “Why is your brother avoiding me?”

Her hands pause – barely, but enough to give her away. “I don't know what you're talking about,” she sniffs, tossing her curls over her shoulder. “Why don't you go ask him if you two are having a tiff.”

“We're not having a tiff,” Matt growls, sliding his toe between the door and its casing as she tries to shut the locker. “And he's not around for me to ask.”

She scowls down at his foot and opens the door wider, silently threatening to slam it regardless. “Seems to me if he wanted you to know, you'd know. Right?” Her long nails tap against the metal door as she tips her head and narrows her eyes. “Don't you two share everything?”

“I thought we did,” Matt mumbles, rubbing at his arm as he slides his foot out of her way. “I don't know what happened... is he okay?” He drops his hands to his sides, shoulders slumped. “Did I do something?”

Romelle stares at him, lips pursed, before shutting her locker and hoisting her backpack over her shoulder. “No. I don't think you did.” She shakes her head with a sigh. “But neither did he.”

Then she's walking away, leaving Matt to blink after her.

“Romelle, wait,” he calls down the hallway, ignoring the looks he gets from passersby. “What's that supposed to mean?”

The only answer he gets is a wave of pink acrylics.

Fortunately if there's one thing he does know, it's that if he doesn't know what's going on Pidge probably does.

He finds her at home buried in a calculus textbook waiting for her code to compile, one delicate eyebrow arched as he shuffles in.

“Took you long enough.”

It's almost enough to make him turn around and take his chances begging Ms. Krolia for advice on her son's mood swings.

Almost.

“Yeah, yeah...” He tosses his bag on the counter and throws himself onto a stool, burying his face in his arms as she smirks down at him. “Go ahead, laugh at my pain.”

“Oh I will.” She steeples her fingers in front of her and grins at him, shark-like. “'Melle texted me about your boy problem.”

“It's not a _boy_ problem,” Matt groans into his arms, rolling to squint over at her. “It's a Keith is ignoring me problem – I don't even know what I did!”

“You didn't do anything.” Pidge rolls her eyes and flicks a tiny wad of paper at him. “Duh.”

“What does that even mean?” Matt drags a hand through his hair and clenches tight, like he could pull all his problems out through his scalp. “If I didn't do anything we should be fine!”

“Boys,” Pidge mutters, then sighs and reaches out to poke her brother in the arm. “Why do you think Keith might be avoiding you?”

“I dunno,” Matt whines, pouting up at her. “The last time I saw him was like a week and a half ago at lunch and he was all mopey about love and-” He cuts off, looking up at her, stricken. “Do you think he got a boyfriend and didn't tell me and that's where he's spending all his time now?”

Pidge slaps both hands to her face and drags, pulling her eyelids until they snap back into place.

“Matt,” she grits out through clenched teeth. “Has Keith ever indicated interest in anyone before?”

“Well no,” he hedges, tearing the papers on the table into tiny shreds. “But you should have seen him, he looked so... sad.”

“Maybe he's sad because the only guy he's interested in is a clueless idiot.”

“Keith likes someone?” Matt can barely squeak the question out, throat suddenly and inexplicably tight. “I... oh... that's...” He swallows hard around the mysterious lump. “I mean, good for him.”

Pidge drops her head to the table and screams.

“Code not compiling?” Their mom pops her head in the door, two baggies of trail mix at the ready. “I brought frustration snacks.”

“I wish,” Pidge groans, making grabby hands at Colleen and tilting her cheek up for a kiss before receiving her snacks. “Einstein over here thinks Keith got a boyfriend.”

Matt groans and thunks his head into the table, only slightly mollified by the kiss his mom presses onto the back of his head.

“Well, doesn't he?” She settles a warm hand onto his back and rubs with her thumb, cocking an eyebrow down at him. “Or are we still pretending they're just 'bros'?”

The air quotes set Pidge into a round of cackling that spews half chewed trail mix over her work station. “That's what I was trying to tell him!”

“What?” Matt whips his head up, indignant. “That's not what half-assed yoda-esque shit you just said a minute ago.” He falters, brows pinching and cheeks heating as her meaning settles in. “And we're not like that.”

“Oh no?” His mom frowns down at him, hand carding through his hair. “Krolia was under the impression you two may have broken up by the way Keith's been moping... she called earlier this week.”

“Broken up-” Matt chokes out, shaking his head. “Mom, _no_, we're not... we've never been...”

“Could've fooled me.” She shrugs and gives him a pat on the back. “Either way, I suggest you head over and work this out with him before he convinces her to let him go live in a shack in the middle of nowhere.”

Matt ends up thinking Keith might have had the right idea as he sweats under the gaze of Ms. Krolia, who had dragged him to the kitchen before she would even let Keith know he's there.

“So, Matt,” she drawls, smiling at him over the rim of a coffee mug - Matt's own sits untouched before him. “Since I can't seem to pry it out of my boy, you're going to need to tell me what happened here.”

Matt swallows hard and watches Black weave around the legs of her chair, glowing yellow eyes peering into his soul.

“Honestly, ma'am, I have no idea.”

It's the wrong answer.

“Do you not?” Her smile is a bit sharper now as she leans forward. “Because I was under the impression that you two were inseparable.” The cat hops onto the table and stares him down, casually dipping a paw into his drink. Krolia pays her no mind. “Now imagine my surprise when Keith comes home all morose and muttering about love and then you don't show up for more than a week.”

“Ms. Krolia, ma'am, I swear,” Matt babbles, inching a finger under his collar and tugging. “I'm just as confused, he got all mopey at lunch and then ran away and I haven't heard from him since and I even asked Romelle and she got all cryptic on me and Pidge wasn't any help either and then my mom said you called and-”

She holds up a hand, cutting him off with a sigh.

“That's what I thought...” she grumbles, heaving off from the stool and heading for the stairs. “Stay here, Holt.”

Matt clams up, nodding like his life depends on it as Black settles both paws in the cup and stares at him, unblinking as the knocking echos clearly from upstairs.

“Go away!” Keith yells from under his covers, hoping to wallow himself to death by the morning. “I'm not hungry.”

“Oh that's funny,” his mom rolls his eyes as she shoulders through the door. “I don't remember asking.” She strolls over and yanks the blankets off him in one go, sending him tumbling to the floor with a thump.

“What the hell,” he growls, eyes narrowed and teeth bared as he scrambles back onto the mattress.

She bares her teeth right back. “Listen kiddo, I don't know what's gotten into you, but you're not going to waste away into sludge that I'll have to clean up.”

Keith huffs and crosses his arms, staring pointedly at the far wall. “There's nothing wrong with me, I just want to be _alone_.”

“Riiight.” Her voice drips with sarcasm as she plops down next to him on the bed. “That's why you came home upset about love, shut out your best friend, and then tried to become one with the bedding, right? Because you're perfectly fine?”

“It's none of your business,” Keith sneers, scooting an extra inch away from her.

“Newsflash kiddo-” She scoots to follow him, throwing an arm around his tensed shoulders. “You are my business, and it's my business when you throw yourself headfirst into a depressive spiral because you decided you don't like your best friend anymore.”

Keith whirls on her, eyes flashing. “That's not what happened.”

Her arm doesn't budge. “Then tell me what did and we can fix it.” She smooths the hair back from his face with her free hand, resisting a grimace at the greasy residue left behind. “There isn't anything worth losing Matt over, right? Tell me what happened.”

Keith slumps like a puppet with his strings cut.

“Nothing happened,” he mutters into her shoulder, eyes downcast. “Nothing is ever going to happen.”

Krolia's brows furrow as she tucks her chin over his head. “Then what's the problem, kiddo?”

“He's going to leave.” It's barely a grunt. “He'll get some big scholarship cause he's so fucking smart, and then he'll be gone.”

Krolia shakes her head, rustling his hair.

“You don't know th-”

“And even if he doesn't,” Keith cuts her off, growing heated as he pulls back. “He's gonna ditch me the second he realizes I'm one more creepy guy with a crush on his best friend.”

Krolia's eyebrows disappear into her hairline as she glances at the open door.

“I don't think he'd-”

“Cause isn't that just so cliché?” Keith steamrolls right over her, throw his hands up into the air. “Some pathetic loser only has one friend and latches onto them so much that he gets a stupid crush, and then the other person realizes what a fucking freak they are and bails.”

“Keith, that's not-”

“So, yeah.” He smacks his balled up fists onto his thighs with a look that's half feral and half heartbroken. “Maybe I am running away, but it's better than seeing his face when he finds out and has to try to let me down easy.”

“Ah.” Krolia grimaces and shakes her head, raising her voice. “Have you tried talking this out with the Holt at all? Maybe he feels the same way.”

“Are you kidding me?” Keith snorts and flops onto his back, dragging her sideways. “Look, I'm lucky he talks to me.” He shakes his head and gives her a bedraggled look. “I guess I just need to grow up and enjoy the time we have before he's gone, right?”

“That ah, would be ideal.” Krolia coughs into her fist, sheepish as she ruffles his hair. “Unless of course, the Holt boy were to have an inkling of common sense and timing that would like to make itself known for the first time in his life.”

“What?” Keith's brow wrinkles at her suddenly strained smile. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, nothing.” She stands and brushes the imaginary lint off her pants before reaching down to knock under his chin. “I'm just saying that if I happened to be one Matthew Holt I would probably be speaking to you _posthaste_.” She hisses the last word toward the door, then pauses, grinning when she hears the creak of the stairs. “Anyway, good talk son.”

And then she's gone, leaving one very confused Keith sprawled onto his bed.

“And people wonder why I'm weird...” he grumbles, rolling over to grab his phone. His fingers hover over the conversation with Matt, eyeing a series of unanswered texts from his best friend that trail from their normal chattering into a single frowny face sent two days ago. He taps out a short message, just a 'hey. sorry for disappearing' and tosses the phone onto the night stand before laying back down and throwing an arm over his eyes.

The notification chime comes from the doorway.

It's not his chime.

He rolls to squint at the door, jaw dropping at the sight of his best friend standing awkwardly in the hall, scrubbing a hand through the hair at the back of his neck.

“Uh...” Matt clears his throat and wiggles his phone, cheerful red light blinking in the corner. “I um, got your text.”

Keith blinks at him, then grabs his own phone to squint at the time stamp, clearly from one minute ago.

“Already?”

“Well, kinda,” Mat hedges, digging a toe into the threadbare carpet. “I was on my way over, cause I was worried about you-” He pauses to throw Keith a scowl, before pinking to the tips of his ears. “-and then uh, I got interrogated by your mom and then she came up here-”

“Wait.” Keith holds up a hand, paling. “How long have you been here?”

“Aah...” Matt winces, peeking out of one eye as he offers Keith a weak grin. “A while?”

Keith blows out a slow breath, nodding to himself. “Okay, yeah... that's fine.” He holds up a finger and lays back down, grabbing his pillow as he goes. “I'm just gonna...”

Then he drags the pillow over his face and attempts suffocation.

Matt huffs a laugh, arms crossed as he waits for Keith to come back up.

And waits.

“Uh, Keith?”

Scarred knuckles clamp down harder on the pillowcase.

“Keith? Buddy?” Matt scrambles onto the bed, throwing himself on top of Keith as he tugs against the fabric. “Oh my god, Keith, knock it off.”

He manages to wrestle it away as Keith drags in a gasping breath, glaring at the boy on top of him.

“Excuse you,” he wheezes, eyes watering. “I was trying to die in peace.”

“Yeah, well.” Matt punches him in the chest, mouth wobbling. “You can't just disappear for a week and then try to smother yourself and not expect a fight.”

“Better than the alternative,” Keith grunts, slapping at Matt's hand as he pointedly ignores the weight settled over his hips. “How much did you hear anyway?”

“Enough to know you're a fucking idiot.” Matt slaps back, grabbing Keith's hands into his own, and scowling down at him. “Why can't you just talk to me?”

He settles his weight more firmly, locking Keith's knuckles between his own as his friend tries to turn into an eel or spontaneously combust to escape the conversation.

“Because,” Keith hisses, still trying to squirm out. “I didn't feel like watching you pretend we're still cool for the next year before you can run away into nerd land.”

“We _are_ still cool, asshole.” Matt crushes his knees into Keith's ribs and leans into his space. “Even if you're being a weird little bitch about this, I'm not going anywhere.”

“Yet.” Keith spits the word like it's poison, letting it hang between them as he heaves in ragged breaths. “Until you find someone cooler at college and forget about your stupid friend back home.”

“God dammit!” Matt snarls, slamming Keith's hands into the bed. “You're not fucking stupid, I'm not fucking leaving you, will you just _listen_ to me?”

Keith stares up at him, stunned and drained of all fight as Matt crushes his fingers, face twisted above him.

“Matt...”

“No.” Matt chokes, jaw set as he eases off. “Just... shut up.” Keith's teeth click together as he nods, and Matt draws in a shaking breath. “Listen, I may not know what you're going through right now, but I'm not going anywhere, okay? Even if you... if we...” He squeezes their fingers together and ducks his head. “I hadn't really thought about it, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't want to... you know... whatever.”

“Matt you don't need to-”

“Will you stop?” Matt snaps, glaring down at the red eyes of his best friend. “Can you for one second just maybe stop hating yourself and listen to me?” He leans back and grabs a fistful of Keith's shirt, hauling him up to where Matt's still slung across his lap. “I like you, a lot.”

Keith gapes like a fish, inches from his face.

“I like you so much our moms thought we were dating already,” Matt continues, ignoring the way he can feel his ears heating. “I like you so much I tried not to think about how pretty you are because I didn't want to make it weird when you ended up out of my league with some big buff dude.” He gives Keith's collar a shake for good measure. “I like you so much that I didn't think that maybe I might be a little gay until you were gay, because who wouldn't be a little gay for you.”

He lets go of Keith's shirt, not expecting him to catch himself on the bed and stay close, eyes wide and searching.

“Matt you... really?” Keith chokes out, hands fisted into the sheets.

“I mean,” Matt ducks his head and scrubs a hand along the back of his neck, struck with a terrible awareness of their position. “Yeah.” He flits a look up through his lashes, all hunched shoulders and pouting lips. “So don't like go running off on me or anything, okay?”

“Yeah, no...” Keith breathes, lifting a hand to cup Matt's cheek. “I'm sorry, I got into my head and-”

“It's fine.” Matt cuts him off, turning to press a shy kiss into Keith's palm. “But uh.. if you wanted to...”

“Yes.” Keith's arm shoots out to wedge a pillow behind himself as he shimmies further up the bed, clamping a hand on Matt's hip to keep him in his lap. “God, yes, if you want.”

“Yeah.” Matt bobbles a nod at him, silly grin creeping across his face. “But Pidge and Romelle are gonna give us so much shit.”

Keith shakes his head and winds a hand into Matt's hair, “Don't care.” He tugs just enough to pull Matt down to his face, noses brushing as their eyes catch and hold. “Is this-?”

His answer comes as hands lift to cradle his face, pulling their mouths together in a mash that's somehow too wet, too dry, and full of teeth.

“Ow.” Keith huffs a laugh as he pulls back, running his tongue along a spot that will likely bruise. “Is it always that violent?”

Matt pouts at him, gingerly tapping his own bottom lip. “I haven't had any practice.”

“Well, neither have I.” Keith's eyes twinkle with mischief as he pulls Matt back in, gently this time as he lets their lips brush together. “Maybe we should study more?”

The drag of his lips sends a shiver down Matt's spine and he feels his own curl into a smirk against them. “And you said you weren't smart...”

The next dozen or so attempts go much better, to the point where their neither of them notice Krolia in the doorway until she's clearing her throat with a grin.

“Matt,” she coos, wiggling her phone. “Should I tell your mother you two have made up and you'll be staying for dinner, or do you boys need to exchange more friendship smooches to solidify your bromance?”

“I, uh...” Matt squeaks, scrambling off his new boyfriend while trying to flatten his hair - blissfully unaware of the blooming mark high on his throat. “Yeah, dinner sounds uh... yeah.”

“Mom,” Keith growls, slapping his hands to his face, instantly missing Matt's warmth. “Can you not_._”

“Sorry, kiddo.” She taps out a message on her phone, looking entirely not sorry. “Can't help myself, young love and all.” She winks at them and points at her own neck. “Though you boys might want to check out Romelle's bookshelf for ideas other than sucking face and leaving baby's first hickey.”

Keith groans and grabs the pillow to his face again as his mom tromps down the stairs.

“Hey now, none of that.” Matt's long fingers hook around the edges and tug it away. “I've just gotten you, no dying.”

He leans down to press a kiss to Keith's forehead, then his nose, then his cheek... by the time Matt makes it down to his mouth, Keith can't help the soft smile growing there as he presses their lips together – slowly, then all at once.


End file.
